


so wide a sea

by Adarian



Series: History of Middle-earth AUs and Explorations [7]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Loss of Parent(s), Platonic Poly Family, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 21:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21152303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adarian/pseuds/Adarian
Summary: In the days after Rosie Gamgee's death, Elanor prepares herself for the possibility that her father will soon sail into the west. She reflects on a promise she made to him at fifteen, that when the time comes to leave that she will leave with him, and is unsure what to do when she goes with him to the Grey Havens to say goodbye. In their last moments together, her beloved father tells her why she grew up referring to him as "Sam-dad". Now knowing a missing piece of her heritage, Elanor makes a very difficult choice.





	so wide a sea

**Author's Note:**

> so this time in HOME, we have the two versions of the unpublished epilogue to Lord of the Rings. I honestly am kinda glad it's not in the published text but it is full of the Feels. In my WIPs there is a story inspired by the first version of the epilogue but in the second version, we have young Elanor almost tell her dad straight up that she knows he's in love with Frodo and that when Sam goes west, she's coming too. She also refers to her father as "Sam-dad" and everyone else with an extension (Rosie vs Rosie-lass, Frodo vs Frodo-lad) is to differentiate between the child and adult version. BUT the kids named after Merry and Pippin and others don't have the "lad" extension because they're not direct members of the family. AND while Sam has a kid named after him, that kid hasn't been born yet in this epilogue and he's not coming along for some time. So why does Sam need to be differentiated, I wonder, and well, a few hours and listening to Tea for the Tillerman created this.

Two weeks before Elanor Gamgee was to turn sixty, her mother Rosie quite suddenly died in her sleep. With her father lost in grief, it fell to her as the eldest to put all things in order. She made funeral arrangements, sent out notices to distant friends, and did the necessary cleaning and storing away of her mother's things. She did it all so automatically that one might think she was unaffected but the truth was that she felt a solace in the tasks. Elanor had been managing Bag End for years now, living with her parents in order to care for them in their elder days. She had run the household and managed the affairs of her many, many brothers and sisters. Rosie's death hurt but Elanor was at ease with that pain. She loved her mother dearly and had enjoyed a long relationship with her. There was nothing kept from the other, nothing left unsaid. Elanor missed her greatly but she felt her with her still and that was a great comfort.

Who she worried for was her father, who had barely spoken since his wife's passing. Four days after Rosie Gamgee was buried, Sam took Elanor's hand and said something she had feared hearing for so many years.

"I find myself growing tired, Elanorellë."

Although it had been so long ago, Elanor had always remembered clearly the night of her fifteenth birthday. She had stayed up a little later than she should have and talked to her father about the remaining pages in the Red Book, of how he should end the great tale. Elanor had seen the longing in his eyes then, the soft smile he gave when he spoke of Frodo. She had always known that her father cared for Frodo but perhaps now she was old enough for the first time to realize the depth of those feelings. He loved him and being parted with him ached, only soothed by the knowledge that they had not truly said goodbye. 

_"And when you're tired, you will go, Sam-dad. You will go to the Havens with the Elves. Then I shall go with you. I shall not part with you like Arwen did with Elrond."_

_"Maybe, maybe. But maybe not. The choice of Luthien and Arwen comes to many, Elanorellë, or something like it; and it isn't wise to choose before the time." _

But the time had come now and though it had been in back of Elanor's mind for near forty-five years, the reality of it only now struck her. The daydreams of youth, of the elves, of a land of eternal and undying beauty...those were wishes of a little girl, not a middle-aged woman concerned with the responsibilities of her community. 

Yet when he asked her to take the journey with him to the Grey Havens, she did not hesitate. She would see him off, no question. He would need her help transcribing the last few pages of the Red Book. Her father had never had beautiful penmanship but since his late nineties it had become almost indecipherable. Elanor was used to dictation now, always happy to assist her aging father, her dearest Sam-dad. 

She would be lost without him. She knew that, deep down. He was her closest friend and companion throughout all her life. They understood each other in a way that most parents could never relate to their children. Sam was a remarkable father to them all, encouraging each in their own path and journey regardless of how it contrasted against tradition. He said nothing of his eldest daughter remaining unmarried and childless, encouraging her in her interests in local politics and the restoration of the land damaged during the great war. He praised her as a good sister and a good aunt, never remarking as others might that she need be a wife or mother and it was a pity that such good looks had been bestowed upon a spinster. Elanor had actually heard the latter from a cousin of a cousin sometime in her forties and had chuckled at it ever since. 

Others would not have been so understanding of Elanor's life choices, but Sam cherished his daughter and had always defended against any who would criticize her, saying that Elanor was special and had every right to be who she was. 

Had he known in the back of his mind that she might go with him one day? That it would be easier to walk away from the Shire without attachments? Had he hoped for that? Elanor could not ask, even as they rode in the carriage beside each other. 

Sam slept much of the way, leaving Elanor to read through the old Red Book. She had heard it aloud so many times but had rarely held it, worried she might somehow damage it. Yet it had come to her now and to her keeping. It was time for her to read the story on her own, without the editorializing of her father. 

She did not think it would affect her so but she found herself growing sadder and sadder. Her fingers would ghost over Frodo's inked letters, wanting desperately to touch them, to be closer to this man she had never known but had impacted her life so greatly. This broken man who her father was abandoning the world for, the man her father had loved so much he wanted to die by his side. If Frodo still lived. He would be a very old man if he was still alive but he was surrounded by Elven magic. Perhaps he would live forever. Perhaps he and her dear Sam-dad would always be together now, until the very end of the world.

When they arrived, they walked the last mile together, hand in hand. It would be their last moments alone, unless Elanor went with him. It still hung in the air unspoken between them, as if Sam were too embarrassed to mention it, worried he still thought of her as a fifteen year old girl too scared to leave her father's side. 

At last, Sam said quietly, "He loved you, you know."

Elanor stopped walking, watching her father as he beamed, remembering old days. "Frodo. It was the first moment I had seen him smile in months, when we told him we were having you. He tried to give us some space at first but we made sure he was part of it all. Mother Rose, she told him then that he was as much your father as I was and I laughed at that, thinking she didn't understand how babies were made but then I got what she meant. Your mother thought that marrying me meant marrying him too in a way. We thought it might be all three of us. Him living with us, being a family. That's why you all call me Sam-dad. I don't think I ever told you that. When you were born, Rosie used to call me Sam-dad and him Frodo-dad so when you got older you could call either one of us if you needed to. Even when he left, we kept it up. You were six months then, it felt funny stopping just because he was gone."

Elanor found herself unable to speak and her father continued, "For near three months, you didn't sleep unless he was holding you. You used to hold out your hands and demand he'd pick you up. He'd laugh then, only time we ever heard him laugh since we came home. Sometimes when the dreams got to him, he'd go into your nursery and sleep in the chair beside you. Oh and how he used to sing to you. Sad songs like the elves sing but they were lovely for a baby who didn't know what they meant. I thought he would stay for you, I really did. If not for me, then for you. But it wasn't because he didn't love us enough, you understand. He loved you like you were his own. I see so much of him in you, Elanorellë. Not like he looked but how he was with people, how he made people feel. You've got the same heart and the same strength. He would have been so proud of you."

Elanor looked out to the great ship and the elves preparing to set sail. They were waiting for them but without any impatience. Her father was the last of the Ringbearers in Middle-earth. It was a great honour to take him across the sea. It seemed such a strange thing, the enormity of Frodo and Sam's impact and their legend, when compared to the family dynamic that had just been revealed to her. Such a small and simple thing but enough to make her question her own place in the story. That legacy was about to pass on to her. She would be the next hero in the story, unless she decided...no....her father had been comforting her, he could not have meant that such an honour could be given to her as well. 

Sam offered gently, "There's enough in the elven in you, dearest. All of you born that year, you have the golden light of the Lady herself in you. Of all of my children...all of them were beautiful hobbit babies and I loved them all so much. But you had a grace to you, and I knew that you were different. I know the Lady herself would welcome you if you decided to come with me. If you did, you wouldn't be lonely after I was gone. You're one of them as much as you're a hobbit. You could come with me. You could see dear Frodo-dad again. Oh, he would love to see you. I'm sure he's still alive, I would know if it if he weren't, I would feel it. You could come with me, Elanorellë. We could go sailing away together."

There was a part of Elanor Gamgee that would always be fifteen years old, promising her father that she would not make the same choice as Arwen. She would never abandon her father for anything, not even true love. And what ties did she have? Her mother was gone, her brothers and sisters grown and most married. There was nothing for her but the Shire and herself. Surely it was an easy choice. She had known, surely she had known. She was near sixty and she was without husband or children. Was she not the age of the bachelors before her who were swept off to adventures? This could be hers. This was the path of Frodo and Bilbo before him. There was as much Baggins in her as Gamgee. She wasn't meant for a quiet life, a respectable life. 

And yet...and yet...hadn't her father said, all those years ago, that the choice of Luthien came to many, one way or another? She had sworn not to leave her old Sam-dad. She had promised decades ago. She would not leave him alone. 

But he wouldn't be alone, would he? He was going home to Frodo. And what place would there be for her there? Frodo...the father she had never really known but through stories. What would Frodo want for her? What path would he advise her to choose?

And then it came to her and tears came to Elanor's eyes. She covered her face with her hands for a moment, lingering in her discovery before sharing it aloud. 

Frodo had loved her as his own and if he were a well man, he would have stayed. He would have lived in Bag End with them all, raising and caring for all of them. He would have helped Rose in all the cooking and cleaning and given Sam advice in all his mayoral duties. Elanor would have gone to him with all the questions children have as they grow and he would have answered them all dutifully and thoughtfully, never treating them as if there were foolish. 

Elanor could see all of this and she understood why Frodo left. He hadn't been well. He knew the pain he felt would never go away and he didn't want to burden those who were still capable of a happy life. Frodo loved Sam, all of them but especially Sam, and knew the only way to give him peace was to let him go. Sam had waited all this time for Frodo. This was his happy reward after a long and noble life. But if Sam had gone with him then, he would have missed out on all of it, and Frodo wanted him to have every kind of joy before the end of his life. 

And Elanor knew in her heart then that Frodo had wanted the same for her. He hadn't wanted her to spend her life dotting after a poor broken man. He had held her at the beginning of her life and loved her enough for the rest of her lifetime. He had given her a chance to be her own person. Not to be a caregiver to him or to Sam. Not to follow but to find her own path. Not to be the daughter of a Ringbearer but to be the hero of her own story. 

What if her midlife adventure was not to seek the West but to travel East? To walk the roads that her forebearers had, to see adventure and treasure? To meet new faces and see new things? To walk away from everything with just the pack on her back? To find her fate in the unknown instead of the certain? Hers was the choice of Luthien, she realized, for she was forced to choose between a man and her own life. 

"Sam-dad," she murmured. "I..."

Sam smiled sadly and held her face in his hands. "I know. You need to stay behind." 

"If I could leave," Elanor tried to explain, her voice breaking. "If I could go and I could see Frodo-dad and come home...but...I can't. I can't give up my life for any man. Not even my dearest fathers. I love you, Sam-dad, but I know I will be unhappy for the rest of my life if I go with you. And someone must tell the story. The story has to go on and it will be lost if I go with you. The road will stop going ever on and on."

Sam said softly, "Elanorellë, all I've ever wanted is for you to be happy. I figured you'd say what you said, but I knew you had to come to it on your own. I couldn't turn you away, not my own Elanor, and I couldn't say to our Frodo that I forced you off and that you thought I didn't love you. Oh, but I am so glad you came with me here. I'm glad to see your face before I go."

Elanor sniffled. "I love you, Sam-dad."

Sam hugged her tightly and murmured, "I will think of you all every day and miss you every moment. I love you, dear sweet girl." 

And though she were near sixty, Elanor felt a child once again in her father's arms and she didn't think she would be able to let him go. But let him go she did and she stood on the shore, watching as a pair of elves dutifully helped him aboard. She stayed on the docks, waving to her father, and watching as his boat slowly disappeared into the great horizon. 

Elanor put her hand on her chest, willing her heart to ease. She thought she might panic or doubt herself but instead she just felt a bittersweet grief. She had not had to bury her father, but watch him sail into a peaceful ending. She hoped that Frodo lived, that they would see each other again, and Sam could tell him all about his life and Frodo could be reassured that he had done the right thing in leaving. But she would never known her other father, never get to sit and talk with him, to become as close companions as she was with Sam. 

But perhaps she did know him, in a way. Perhaps in the only way that mattered. He had held her when she cried and she slept in his arms when no other arms would do. He had loved her fiercely and she had instinctively done the same. That was part of her, even if it were before her memory. She had known his presence and she had taken shelter in it. It had been the only thing he could give of himself but it had been enough for her in those moments. She still carried that love in her marrow, even if she had not been able to word what it was before now. She had lost her dear Frodo-dad before she was old enough to know who he was. There was tragedy in that but there was also a great comfort in understanding this part of herself. It felt as if something she had been searching for had been found without her even realizing it was missing. 

Elanor did not return to the carriage but instead wrote two letters: one to her brother Frodo-lad and one to her sister Rosie-lass. To her brother she said that she was not returning to the Shire and to her sister that she would be coming east to stay with her until she decided what to do next. To Frodo-lad she sent the Red Book, knowing he would honour it and protect it until she returned and wrote down stories of her own. In a separate book, of course. It was time for new ink and new pages and a new adventure. 

________________________________

The baby cried from the nursery, so softly only Frodo heard her. He put down his quill and went to Elanor, murmuring endearments as he picked her up. Elanor settled quickly, her fingers grasping onto the chain around his neck. It had once bothered him when she did so but he understood it was a baby's nature to grab at everything and she was so young and innocent she could have no concept of what it lay as placeholder of.

Frodo carried her back to the library and rested in his chair, the only place he himself had been able to sleep for weeks. The baby laid upon Frodo's chest and he held her tenderly, resting his hand on her back. He could almost feel his missing finger then, knowing where it should lay against her. Frodo smelled her sweet soft skin and he closed his eyes. The pages of his book were nearly done. It would be time to leave soon but the thought of never seeing this sweet babe again weighed heavily upon him. For ill or not, it had been decided before she was born. There was nothing else that could be done. 

Frodo sang to her quietly and she settled, nuzzling into him. By the final words of the song, he felt the tears fall down his face. 

_Mal ai sin linduvan ciryaron, man cirya tuluva nin?  
Man cirya atacoluva nin arta allanda Eär?_

_But if of ships I now should sing, what ship would come to me,  
What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a Sea? _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Erwin "Eärendil" Swoboda for the translation as my Quenya is nonexistent:   
(http://www.elvish.org/gwaith/swoboda_1.htm)


End file.
